


Touch and Heal

by HazelDomain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is cursed, Comfort Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Fondling, Grace Sex, M/M, Off screen OC Death, Shower Sex, handjobs, healing gone wrong, references to violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26444017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelDomain/pseuds/HazelDomain
Summary: A witch curses Castiel, and his attempts to heal go terribly wrong.Even after the curse is lifted- presumably- he's afraid to touch anyone with his skin, let alone his grace. He's sitting in the bunker in a hoodie and gloves, flinching if anyone comes within accidental contact range.Sam's sure the curse is lifted, and he's going to prove it. One way or another.
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 108
Collections: Supernatural Kink Meme





	Touch and Heal

“Cas…. you can’t keep punishing yourself like this.” 

“I’m not  _ punishing _ myself,” Cas snapped, ducking his head so that his hood covered his face. “This is a precaution, and not an unreasonable one, considering the stakes.” 

Sam sighed, almost reaching for one gloved hand before thinking better of it. 

“It’s been two months,” he said quietly. “Rowena says there’s no way the curse is still active, not after the counterspell she did.” 

“And what if she’s wrong?” Cas snapped, turning to glare. “You weren’t there, Sam, you didn’t hear the  _ screaming. _ That woman had a broken leg, and when I touched it, the bone rotted.  _ Rotted. _ Do you have any idea…” 

He trailed off, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down over his gloves, making sure to cover skin that hadn’t seen light in weeks. 

“At the very least, Cas, you need to let me wash your clothes,” Sam said softly. “You can’t wear the same outfit forever. And you need to take a bath.” 

For a moment they both thought of the suit and trench coat, Jimmy’s uniform that Cas had worn for years, back before… well, before everything. Sam had always wondered what Cas would look like in other clothes, but now he’d kill to see the old coat back. 

Sam sighed, and went off to find another hoodie. 

~~~~~~

The shower dripped, each impact seeming too loud in the silence. 

“Leave me alone, Sam,” Castiel said, trying to put as much authority into his voice as he could. Sam shook his head. 

“No. You can’t hide from this forever. You need to take a shower. You need to change your clothes. And it’s pretty clear you won’t do it on your own. Are you worried I’m going to catch some kind of injury by touching your laundry?”

“I don’t know what I’m worried about!” Castiel snapped. “I was cursed to  _ kill _ people if I tried to heal them- if I kill them by touching them with my grace, then why should I assume my skin is safe? Or my clothes, or my attention, or-” 

He stopped abruptly, scowling at the floor. 

“You’re taking a shower,” Sam repeated. “I don’t care if I have to get the holy oil, Cas.”

“That’s not funny.” 

“I’m not laughing.” 

For a moment they just stared each other down. 

“Fine,” Cas said at last. 

“Good,” Sam answered. He went over to the shower, turning the dial to H. 

Slowly, bracing himself for disaster, Castiel peeled one of his gloves off. He dropped it to the floor and then simply stared at his hand, as though waiting for it to perform some act of violence on it’s own. 

Nothing happened. 

Sam stood with his arms crossed, watching from a safe distance as Castiel peeled off his other glove, his hoodie, his flannel, and finally the t-shirt underneath. He stood there in the steam, naked to the waist, braced for some catastrophe which was not forthcoming. 

That’s when Sam moved, crossing the room in four steps and pressing his palms against Cas’s bare chest. 

“Stop!” Cas shouted, trying to backpedal, but he was nearly against the wall already. Two steps put them both under the cascade of water, their clothes instantly soaked as Castiel tried in vain to break contact. 

“Nothing’s happening,” Sam said. Castiel’s hands hovered over Sam’s forearms, wanting to push him away but unwilling to touch the hunter’s body. “See? Nothing’s happening.” 

“I’m trying to hold my grace in,” Castiel said through gritted teeth. “Sam, please, I can’t…”

Sam stepped back, just far enough to shuck out of his wet shirt. After a moment, his pants followed, leaving nothing on his body but water. 

“Cas. Trust me,” he said. He stepped forward again, reaching for Cas’s hands and weaving their fingers together. “You’re not going to hurt me. I promise.”

“How can you know?” Cas asked. Water trailed down his cheeks, not all of it from the shower. 

“I know,” Sam said. He let his hands trail across the denim covering Cas’s hips. “Take these off.” 

When Cas hesitated, Sam did it for him, pushing jeans and boxers down to the ground, leaving them both bare. Sam tossed the wet bundle to the side and then stood, once again crowding Cas against the tile wall. 

“Give me your hands.”

“Sam…”

Sam took hold of his wrists, pulling until Cas’s palms were against his chest. 

“I’m still fine, Cas.” 

“I can’t hold my grace in all the time. If I slip up… Sam…” Water was beading on Cas’s eyelashes, dripping down his face when he closed his eyes. “It was a concussion. That’s all. I could feel it… could feel just a little bit of overstimulation. And I knew how to fix it, I could feel everything going back exactly the way it should be. It  _ felt _ like he should have been fine… and then suddenly he was dead. I’d turned a concussion into a brain bleed without even knowing.”

“Cas…”

“You say you’re fine, but how can I  _ know? _ ” Cas said suddenly. “How do I know I’m not tearing you apart, without even knowing it?” 

“Close your eyes,” Sam said. He kept his grip on Cas’s wrists, drawing the angel’s hands up his chest, the column of his throat, until they rested on his cheeks. “Ignore what you  _ think, _ what do you  _ feel _ ?” 

“You,” Cas answered. “Your life force moving with your breath and your blood, the electrical impulses-”

“Too much,” Sam said. “You’re taking what you feel and trying to figure out what it means. Magic will lie to you, but in the end it’s always an illusion. It can’t make you feel what isn’t there.” 

He turned his head, pressing his lips against Cas’s skin. 

“Trust me, there’s a difference,” he murmured, releasing his hold on Cas’s hands. 

Cas leaned in, his forehead pressing to Sam’s temple. One hand stayed, cupping his cheek, while the other circled past his jaw. Wet strands of hair tangled in his fingers, and Cas’s breath hitched. 

“Grace doesn’t feel,” he whispered. He shifted, burying his face in the hollow of Sam’s throat. Sam wrapped his arms around the angel’s shoulders, drawing him close. “What if I can never touch you that way again. What if you get hurt again, and I can’t… and I only make it worse.” 

Sam laughed, pressing closer and nuzzling at the top of Cas’s head. 

“We’ll get you there.”

“How do you  _ know _ ?” 

“Because I can drive the Impala,” Sam said. He reached over Castiel’s shoulder, retrieving a washcloth and rubbing it over the soap. He half expected it to leave a trail when he scrubbed it across Cas’s shoulders, but it didn’t. 

“I can wash myself, Sam,” Cas said, drawing back a step. Sam handed him the washcloth. 

“Just getting your back. You want me to do your hair?”

“I can manage.” 

“I know you can. I’m asking if you want me to help.”

Cas regarded him silently for a moment, then turned his back. He ran the washcloth over his arms, his chest, his belly, waiting for the feeling of Sam’s fingers on his scalp. 

He didn’t have to wait long, and despite his misgivings, he leaned into it. He kept his eyes closed, trying to  _ feel  _ the suds rolling down his neck, down his back. He could feel the heat of Sam’s body, just behind his. He felt it come closer, pressing against his from hip to shoulder. Sam’s arms encircled him, fingertips skimming across his lower belly. 

“Why couldn’t you drive the Impala?” he asked, and Sam stilled for a moment. 

“I thought I’d drive it into a ravine,” Sam said, when he’d recovered. “Dean would be driving and all of a sudden I’d see someone lying in the road. I  _ knew _ it was Lucifer, but it was still all I could do to keep from lunging for the steering wheel. I can’t imagine what he might have shown me if I was actually in control.”

Castiel closed his eyes. 

“What did you do?” 

“An angel healed me,” Sam said, leaning in. “A strong, brave, handsome angel took everything that wasn’t real, and saved my life.” 

Cas clenched his jaw, squeezing his eyes tight. 

“I don’t remember what I did. One more strategy lost to the... “ he gestured inarticulately. 

“But you did it once, and you can do it again, if you need to” Sam insisted. “In the meantime…” 

His hands delved lower, trailing shampoo suds though the short hair above Cas’s cock. Cas let out a slow exhale. 

“You feel that, don’t you?” Sam said, low and sultry. 

“If you’re referring to your erection against my back; yes, I feel it,” Cas answered. Sam laughed, a burst of air just behind Castiel’s ear. 

“I was thinking more like my hand around your cock,” Sam said, the pad of his thumb running along the top of Cas’s hardening length. “But yes, you can probably feel that other thing too.” 

Castiel turned, slick body sliding through Sam’s arms until they were face to face. There was nothing between them now, the water pooling in the places where their bodies joined. Cas could feel Sam’s cock pressed against him, fitting into the curve of his hip. He moved against it, drawing a hiss out of the hunter. 

“You know I can’t do this,” he said quietly. “As long as I’ve got my grace, I can’t control it and reach climax at the same time.”

“And that’s why we  _ are _ doing this,” Sam replied. “When you’re panting through the aftershocks and I’m still alive, you’ll feel better.” 

His hand snaked between them, wrapping around both of their cocks, stroking in tandem. Castiels’ protests died on his lips as he let out a shuddering breath. 

“Put your hands on my shoulders,” Sam directed, and Cas obeyed, half hanging off the human. He was older than Sam by several orders of magnitude, but when it came to this, the human definitely had more experience. Cas’s knees went weak, but Sam stayed a solid presence, even as his strokes picked up speed. 

“How’s that feel, Cas? You feel me touching you?”

Cas nodded wordlessly, biting his lip. His fingers laced together behind Sam’s neck, and he did his best to hold his grace in- but there was no use. Trying to keep his grace from reaching out to Sam was like… was like trying to stop his mind from feeling fond, or his body from feeling aroused. 

Grace streamed across his body when he came, his eyes burning a pure blue as he cried out. As usual, Sam was right behind him, unable to hold out at the sight of him. 

For a moment, Castiel was unable to open his eyes. The image of Sam’s shocked, lifeless face was so clear it almost felt as though he could already see it. 

But then he felt Sam’s breath against his temple, felt his chest rising and falling against Cas’s own. Felt the tremors in Sam’s thighs and belly. Felt the heat and vitality of him, pressing against the full length of Cas’s body. 

Castiel opened his eyes, and Sam was smiling down at him. 


End file.
